In the silence of the shadows
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I have searched in the silence of the shadows of the street at three o'clock in the morning, when it's hard to walk and my eyes fail to stay open for the cold that pierces my eyes, when I discover I'm not like the rest of the diurnal beings, who leave their burrows at dawn.
I hear drunk and violent times that pass without saying that no matter how long I walk, you will not come down this grey and empty street. Some lights that come are breaking the hollow of your absence, and they don't stop, and they never guess that they violate the memory that lived at the crossroads ...
Today I want to forget your name, but on the sidewalk no one to call me or sell me a pair of lips that make stay away from your warm, quivering flesh, there is nobody to sell me another life that is not mine, so that finally you hurt less, so that you don't wander in my neighborhood, so you no longer exist.